


Wanted

by snuberr



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:07:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snuberr/pseuds/snuberr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hans loved parties...provided he was alone. But that was hardly the case when you had older brothers. Twelve of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Wanted  
> Fandom: Frozen  
> Pairing: Hans/Anna  
> Prompt (by celticsaemi): As a prompt for a Hanna drabbles (^^) : Hans didn’t come alone at Elsa’s coronation, he is with one (or more) of his brothers and he feels a bit unconfident, especially after bumping into Anna… BUT she only has her eyes on him and almost ignores his brothers. It does move him.  
> Note: I hope I did a good job and you like it! ;) Also, I used whitoro’s headcanon brothers for Hans, namely Otto and Manfred, who are in two of her fics.

Hans noted the flute of champagne in his hand and frowned for just minuscule of a second before reengaging into his charming smile. As he listened to the ongoing and useless rambling of some minor what’s-his-name politician (who was mostly cursing Prussia with a grudge to be honest), he prayed for any sort of deliverance to get him through the night.

Not to be mistaken, Hans enjoyed these celebrations in any form—birthdays, weddings, _coronations_.  Not for the served delicacies and impeccable music but because ballrooms and courts opened doors and windows to opportunities—things he badly wanted to seize. It was where the elite socialized and where a charm and the right compliment could get you places and positions.

Hans loved parties…provided he was alone.

But that was hardly the case when you had older brothers.

Twelve of them.

Who outranked or surpassed him one way or another.

Thankfully, not  _all_  of them had come to celebrate the newly crowned Queen of Arendelle. But their presence,  _even a fraction of them_ , was an absolute hindrance.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of one of his three older brothers who came with him,  _Slay_ , whose Christian name went unused in favor of his moniker he proudly touted.  He was the Southern Isles’ most charming and handsomest womanizer (of course, no one mentioned that to the hapless women, inventing heroic deeds for the basis of the name). He knew just how to  _slay_  them with the right whisper and the slightest of smiles. He stood out in the peripheries of the ballroom, like a shepherd attending to his flock of sheep that seemed to increase in number the moment anyone female set eyes in his direction. Why even Elsa, the new queen, would once in a while flicker her gaze to him from the safe distance of her throne. Why, sometimes tilting her chin to get a better glimpse of the handsome rake.   

Standing a few feet from the growing harem was Otto, the fifth prince, chatting in boisterous nature among his close circle of few but powerfully influential friends. They broke out cigars with ghastly fumes, turning their space into a gentlemen’s parlor. Their poor etiquette was a show of power. They could do anything they want without anyone butting in to question or reprimand. Hans could only hope to someday achieve that kind of authority. But as it stood, it would not be an easy feat.

Manfred, the only likeable brother for Hans (and the one who resembled him the most), was out of sight but no doubt was engaged in regaling adventures of his travels to a captive audience somewhere. Among all the royal siblings, Manfred was the most travelled and as such was an interesting character and was the go-to person when dignitaries wanted to learn more of a place for investments. Name an obscure country; he had probably been there thrice and could tell you every bit of locale you would ever need to know.

Hans allowed himself a mournful sigh in his head; here he was in a dull one-sided conversation with a man of minor position while his older brothers were making nice with the people that actually mattered. He was not as experienced as Otto, nor as well travelled as Manfred. And Slay certainly surpassed him in looks and charm, sweeping away princesses for his picking.

At twenty-three, Hans was considered green. And when stacked up to his brothers, whose years had gained them their footing and stronghold, he had nothing to show for his name except a good transcript from school—that all his brothers had. Such was the curse of being the youngest. Overlooked for the siblings who bested in anything Hans took part in.

He took a sip from his drink and noted how the finest quality seemed so tasteless in his mouth. This night was just as he dreaded as they first made sail to Arendelle—it would not favor him at all.

A little relief came when his  _riveting_ conversation partner excused himself, leaving Hans to his lonesome, leaning against the wall like some hopeful chit waiting for her first dance of the Season.  He crossed his arms, face blank as he watched the dancers glide on the floor.

“Um—hey, hi…”

Hans blinked and turned his head to his left.

Freckles were the first things that registered in his mind—a face dotted like an archipelago on the bridge of the nose to the plump pink of cheeks.

“Could I…if you don’t mind.” She shyly pointed behind him, “Ch-chocolates?”

He followed her direction and stared into a mountainous plate of truffles held at the end of the food table.

Hans quickly stepped aside, “Pardon, I didn’t mean to block your”—

“Oh no, it’s okay. It’s fine. You’re fine…actually.”

He raised a puzzled brow at her when recognition hit him. It was Princess Anna, the queen’s sister. “My lady!”  He quickly hastened into a bow, spilling the contents of his forgotten glass. He winced when a bit of champagne splashed on the hem of her green dress.

“I am gravely sorry, your highness”—

Anna waved her hand. “Oh h-hey! It’s okay. Accidents happen all the time. I would know, I’m the queen of accidents. Uh! Little accidents of course not big ones or anything—I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Umm, well…” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, setting his empty glass onto the table. She moved past him to the sought-after sweets, side-stepping the little mess, giving him her back as she started picking off the plate and sampling them discreetly.  In between bites, she would glance at him with a sort of anxious look.

Thinking she didn’t want anyone near her as she wolfed down the desserts, Hans was ready to take a few more steps back when the princess called him out.

“Wait, don’t go! Stay!”

She took a step towards him—slipping onto the champagne puddle. Hans moved quickly, pulling her back up, as she stumbled forward into his chest instead. Her hands gripped the lapels of his waistcoat while his own found their way on her waist to steady her.

“Glad I caught you.”

“I am so sorry! See what I mean about being the queen of accidents?” She laughed, trying to make light of her embarrassment.

“The fault was mine to begin with,” he assured her, smiling at the flush of her close face. Anna let out a girlish giggle when her face suddenly paled.

“Oh no, I am so sorry!”  She pushed him away—the act of which made her groan in horror even more. “Ohh! Drat! I am  _so_  sorry.”

“My lady?”

“I got chocolate all over you!”

Hans looked down and sure enough, little finger stains of chocolate covered the cream front oh his coat. For a moment, he just stood there - stunned, but upon seeing the distress that marred the princess’ face, he chuckled.

“Well it’s a nice contrast of color.”

Anna was startled, she had not expected that kind of reaction—but she certainly welcomed it. “Chocolate or not, you still look very much the prince,” she chirped, grabbing a napkin from the table. She dabbed at the stain, trying to get it out without ruining the fabric. She was making lame chocolate puns at the situation and Hans could not help but laugh at how  _unfunny_  they were. It then dawned on him that they had not been formally introduced yet.

“Oh, pardon my manners, I have not introduced myself. I’m”—

“Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, umm yes,” she intoned sheepishly, tossing the sullied napkin to the table, “I’ve um, came upon your name already.”

“You did?”—He wanted to learn how she did but was interrupted before he could pursue it.

“My, my, Hans. I never thought you’d be a decorated prince—of chocolate.”

His mood suddenly darkened, “ _Slay_.”

Sure enough, the infamous rake swaggered in their presence, dressed impeccably from sole to dark crown.  Hans pondered for a moment where his flock was when he saw that they were patiently waiting for him on the other side. Anna stepped in front of Hans, folding her hands together, saying, “Please. It was my fault. I was the careless one.”

“I would believe no such thing from a vision of grace like you, Princess Anna.” Slay spoke with the low rumble in his throat that worked wonders on women, as he took her hand. He brushed a kiss to her small knuckles, muttering, “Arendelle is fortunate to have such blooming flowers in their court.” His green eyes searched her face in a seductive gaze that always inflamed his target.

But for Anna, she just looked confused.

“Oh, well—umm, “ She took her hand away, “you are much too…kind?”

“I would be so shamed to think if my  _little_  brother,” there was the hintest of sneer, “did anything untoward you. Oh don’t worry, Hans. You know I jest.”

“No, Hans—Prince Hans actually assisted me.”

“Ah, just as I assisted the successful trade negotiations with five countries last year. Well, assist isn’t really the right word for it more like s _pearheaded_  it. Oh, ah, where were you Hans during that time?”

Hans’ smile tightened, restraining his displeasure. He knew exactly what his older brother was trying to do. And damn it if it didn’t work every time.

“Eton, finishing my studies.”

The dark-haired prince smirked, “Oh yes, King’s College. A charming little place…”

Hans could feel his face heat up, from humiliation, from inadequacy—

“You studied in England? What was it like?”

…

…

Both brothers looked to Anna, shock on their faces. She was looking up to Hans with excitement alight in her eyes and freckled cheeks pushed up by a wide smile. 

Hans recovered quickly, “Um, well…it was great place to be. Things were always active and it was sometimes hard to manage the time when you were a student prefect”—

“You were a prefect?”

“Yes, it’s not really as glamorous as it seems though…”

Slay cleared his throat, “I was prefect too during my time although I didn’t have so much of a hard ti”—

“Were you in any clubs?” Anna asked. Either she was being deliberately rude or she was caught up in her enthusiasm. Hans suspected the latter.

“Um yes, the King’s College Boat Club.”

“You row?” She grabbed his wrist, “I would definitely like to try that, would you teach me? I bet you won lots of contests.”

Slay tried to cut in once more, “Oh, speaking of contests”—

“We won the May Bumps last year.” Hans supplied quickly, darting glances at his infuriated brother.

“No wonder you have such broad shoulders and strong arms.” Anna replied, placing her free hand on his bicep, testing it with a squeeze, “You caught me so easily without any effort.”

Hans grinned, matching her interest, “Well if the opportunity does present itself, I would be more than willing to teach you how to row.”

Anna squealed. “Could we do it in the fjord?”

Slay was now struggling, “Princess, if I may”—

Anna just continued as if she and Hans were the only people in the immediate area. “I can only imagine how much fun you had. I’ve only been taught here in the palace my whole life.”

“I think”—Slay piped, which went ignored again.

“You would have loved it there. Although some would insist that London is the place to be.”

“Have you ever been to an Almack’s ball? I hear they’re quite famous.”

“The marriage mart”—Hans’ brother sneered.

Hans grimaced, “Famous for the horrible lemonade I can tell you that.”

“You know, I”—Slay tried again.

“What would it be like to dance there?” Anna wondered with longing, who had linked her arm to Hans’ without noticing.

Hans laughed with good nature, a crinkle in his eyes, as he patted the hand on his arm, “You would get sick of it. Because your dance card would always be full.”

“My, aren’t you suave!”

In a final effort, the ignored man made a grandiose sweep in his arm as he bowed. This time, his words rang louder than necessary. “Speaking of dances, Princess, would you”—

Hans beat him.

“Princess Anna, would you honor me with a dance?”

The princess nodded, never taking her eyes off his face. “Well I don’t have a dance card with me, but I would be delighted.”  She then turned to Slay, finally acknowledging his presence, “Oh, would you excuse us, Lord uhh Shane?”

The look on the older prince’s face was priceless as Hans led the princess to the center of the ballroom.

 As Hans spun Anna on the floor, he could not help but wonder where the clumsy princess disappeared to because she danced divinely. She matched his step with such practiced grace that he could not help but think that the earlier debacle had just been an act.

“Hey, would you like to look around the palace later?” She asked, as he gathered her close into his arms before releasing her with a spin.

“By ourselves?” He frowned for it did not seem proper.

“Don’t worry. It’s fine. They won’t miss me.” Anna assured, as he twirled her once more.

“But wouldn’t you want to dance more?” He asked, surely such a fine dancer like her would prefer to spend the night on a dance spell. Coming back into his arms again, Anna leaned closer, her hands linked around his neck, as she tilted her head back.

“Only if it’s with you.” She whispered in a dreamy sigh.

* * *

 

“This has been a most interesting night.” Manfred announced, lifting his goblet of red wine, studying the ruby glow under the moonlight.

Hans chuckled, leaning over to the balcony ledge. “That makes two of us.” He stared out into the great garden below them, the scent of heather lingering in the air brought a certain warmth into the lungs.

“The princess seems to have taken a liking to you.” Manfred said as he swirled his drink as if contemplating, “Slay has been sulking like a child for the last couple of hours.”

Hans rolled his eyes, “His women will console him.”

There was a moment of silence before Manfred broke it.

“I was actually acquainted with the princess earlier in the evening.”

At this revelation, Hans turned to his brother in mild surprise, “You mean you’ve already met?”

Manfred smiled, taking a long sip. “Yes, it was rather amusing. When she asked me, her exact words were,” he paused, squinting his eyes, as if trying to remember, “‘who is that gorgeous man with the dreamy eyes over there?’, I had assumed she was talking about Slay—but she was actually pointing at you.”

“She did?”

The older prince made little spins with his walking stick, a habit of his; “From that point on, it was funny watching the princess stalk you like a prey all evening until she finally worked up the nerve to approach you.”

“Wait, all evening?”

“Maybe all day, if you count the pining eyes she made at you during the coronation ceremony. You should learn to be more observant.” Manfred took another sip before turning to the door, “Well, I should head back, you enjoy your date.”

“Wait, how did you?”

“I’m observant.” The retreating brother called out, raising a carefree hand in the air as he disappeared back into the room. Moments after, Anna emerged; lifting her skirts a little as she approached him. An overwhelming feeling swept inside Hans, a feeling that seemed to lift him from the ground as he gazed at this beautiful creature who only had eyes for him. It was something unfamiliar. Something he could not readily identify…

“Sorry I needed to powder my nose…wait, I’m not suppose to tell you that.” She coughed, “So, Prince Hans…”

“Call me Hans.”

“Oh—then call me Anna.”

“ _Anna._ ”

She giggled.

“Have you ever been to the top of a clock tower?”

“I can’t say I have.”

“Would you like to?”

For a while, he said nothing.

Then, Hans took her hand, turned it over and pressed a firm and slightly wet kiss on her wrist, his lower lip softly trailing her skin. Anna gasped, her knees buckling at his touch.

And Hans finally understood what the feeling was.

 _Being wanted_.

He smiled into her skin.

“Only if it’s with you.”

* * *

**The End.**


End file.
